Sleeping With Ghosts
by dannodontsurf
Summary: It took Catherine a lazy afternoon and a black notebook to apprehend how damaged Steve was.


A/N; Leave a review and let me know what you think! :)

P.S. Sorry for the mistakes!

* * *

Steve's hand works with the knife in perfect harmony, as it chops up the aromatic parsley. He looks over his shoulder, and a blissful smile stretches across his face. Catherine kisses his neck, and stands next to him. Steve looks at her, and almost forgets about the parsley and the perfectly sharpened ceramic knife in his hand. Catherine's face is serious, but she's only bluffing. She wants to smile because he makes her smile. The gorgeous, genuine smile on his face makes her smile. Hers might not be as gorgeous, it might even be goofy, but she doesn't care.

"You sure we won't burn the house down?" she asks nervously and bites her lip. Steve smile is even wider, and Catherine wants to melt.

"Yeah, we'll be fine. Just follow the recipe," he replies nonchalantly, and continues to chop. Then, he takes a large onion and slices it up, as Catherine observes, impressed. She winces, and digresses from the counter.

"Oh, Steve I forgot!" she says in panic, but Steve's peaceful eyes calm her. "Where did you say it was?" she asks on her way out of the kitchen, but doesn't leave until he speaks.

"There's a box under my bed, a bunch of books and stuff. You'll see. It should be there. A black notebook," he says and she's already gone.

* * *

Catherine crouches, and looks under the bed. She smiles to herself, and pulls a brown box out. Blowing the dust off, her eyebrows furrow but she continues to smile. Catherine slowly browses through the content, and finally – she sees the black notebook. Taking it, Catherine sees it's pretty thick but it seems untouched. There's a folded page inside, and Catherine opens to the middle of the notebook. Slightly confused she begins to read.

"July 14th

I'm a little bit cold right now. I still get shivers when I think about that night. They run down my spine and disappear, but the coldness stays with me. It surprises me every day, and I get used to it every day. It's a closed circle. I can't help myself. I just can't stop picturing it. It's haunting me. I just wish you were here, all of you.

You never really get used to it. You just don't. Every death is a new defeat. It's a new fall. And you don't get used to it, never. We're all to fucking proud, aren't we? Selfish little bastards... But it's not the death that scares us. It's the screams and the fear in people's eyes before they go. I don't want to tell you about it, because you already know. I know you do because I heard you. I heard you scream and I swear to God I would rather pull the trigger on myself than hear it ever again.

No one deserves to die such an awful way. No one deserves to scream so loudly, or cry so bitterly... No one deserves to have their dreams, and hopes, and everything just get taken away. Just get stolen from them, you know? No one has the right to steal someone's life. But for fuck's sake, no one deserves to watch that happen to someone else. Just watch, under a fucking pile of metal, just trapped there. Listening to the horror... I swear, I'd rather die than remember that again.

And you know what the funny part is? I don't get to just forget it. People lean on me and expect me to pick them up when they fall. They rely on me. And yeah, I save lives because I chose to. But damn it, all the lives I didn't save... All the lives I took... Man, that's what doesn't let me sleep at night. Why didn't I save everyone? Why was I late? Or too weak? Why did I even pull the trigger? Because I take lives just to save them. Ridiculous.

I'm just so sorry. I sleep with ghosts. I just pray to God that one day they'll leave me. I don't want them to sleep with someone else; I just want them to leave. No one deserves _that_ pain, you can't even imagine it.

And I think I don't deserve this either, even though I've killed... but I've saved at least twice as many. Stopped at least twice as many screams. But none of that matters now. You can't undo the done. I can't.

They just won't leave me alone.

- S."

Catherine sobs quietly as she puts the notebook back where it was. Her hands are shaking, and she feels a bit numb, too. It's horrible, and it's killing her; what she just read. Sometimes she wonders what goes on in his head, but she figures – he's all right. If he wasn't, he would say something. Catherine wipes the tears off her face and manages to stand up. Her knees are tottering and she sits on the bed, just for a minute. She wants to forget and then she realises that it's not about her. It's about him and his pain. She wants to help him, but how? Catherine walks out of the room, leaving the tears and the fear behind.

* * *

Catherine walks to the kitchen, but stops at the door. She leans, and watches Steve grate the cheese. He seems so peaceful. Catherine smiles to herself, and walks up to him. Whispering into his ear, she gets a smile from him. It's enough to calm her down again.

"It's almost ready," he says enthusiastically. Catherine puts her arms around him, and leans her head on his back. Steve stops for a moment. Catherine feels his heart skip a beat, as her fingers are intertwined on his chest. Then, he breaks the silence. "You'll love this. C'mon, it'll get cold."

Steve notices that she didn't bring the recipe, but he smiles anyway. She knows him.

The final drop of red wine is gone, and Catherine closely observes the glass in her hand as she is lying in Steve's arms. They're listening to the sound of waves, and Catherine hears him hum a tune. His voice is so lovely and Catherine runs her fingers down his chest. Steve takes her hand and intertwines his fingers with hers.

"I love you," she whispers, and Steve laughs.

"I love you too, Cath," he says simply, and takes her breath away.

"No, Steve, I _love _you," she whispers, a bit sadly. "I need you to know that I'm here, and whatever you do won't change it. I... I'm yours, one hundred percent," she says and Steve's face is serious.

"Cath..." he utters and suddenly pulls his hand away. She knows him and it scares him, probably more than anything else. "Forget about that, okay? I don't want you to remember me like that. Just... forget that," he says insecurely.

"It's not you, Steve. It's this world that's bad, not you," she tells him and looks him in the eyes. Steve looks away. "Sailor," she calls him. His heart goes to her, and he smiles, maybe a bit broken.

"Yeah?" he responds lazily.

"I love _you_," she whispers and kisses him, and he takes her hand again. The night is warm, and it's just the two of them, and the waves. Catherine lets him unbutton her shirt, and she smiles. Maybe tonight he won't be sleeping with ghosts.


End file.
